New Beginings
by hanjuuluver
Summary: There were two ways it could have gone. She could become Queen and live forever, or reject it all and return home and then die within a year. Could she become the ruler of Kei just to save her own wretched life? What if she had returned to Japan instead?


A/N: In case anyone either reads this or was curious, I feel like informing you that this is actually set in the book, not in the anime. I recently had a reviewer link me to somewhere I could read for free, and inspiration comes forth. The only thing you need to know is that Sugimoto and Asano were not there. Wee! So please don't review with things like "where are Sugimoto and Asano mentioned? They're important!" Umm… no, they aren't. The book says they never came along, so they aren't mentioned. So… that's that! Enjoy!

Warning: Unbeta'd because I felt like it. Word doesn't yell at me though, so it shouldn't be too bad?

Disclaimer: Twelve Kingdoms. It is not mine. This fic is mine. It is also free, though I accept gratitude payment if you feel inclined to give it to the poor, suffering college student.

Follow your heart, huh? But that's the problem, isn't it. My heart. I still don't even know who I am yet… They tell me I'm a queen. I know I'm just a girl. Admittedly they are right, but I should be queen just because I was chosen. I know I'm not qualified. I don't know anything about this world still, and on top of that I don't even know my own heart—how could I possibly rule a country like this?

I couldn't. Pure and simple.

That's why I came back home. I've started my life over. Before I left they told me I'd not live more than a year, but I'd at least have four or five months. Keiki must live on—I didn't save him for nothing, and with luck he will be able to find the new ruler soon after my passing. Since he will die unless our covenant unknowingly made is broken (I mean, really? Would it have _killed_ him to explain at least _something_ before making me agree to that?), I must go first. It won't be hard. I restarted my life somewhere entirely new. Somewhere that no one knows me. I'll see what I can do with what I've learned. See if I can't find a way to form real relationships with the people I meet.

I've given up so much to get here. I refuse to waste that. I refuse to let myself think that the continued chaos, fear, drought, plague, and disaster that I left for the next Kei-ou to deal with is for nothing. I remind myself that it's for the better. Another You-ou would devastate them for even longer. It's better this way. I'd have only made things worse in the end. I'd be unable to do anything for myself, so I'd be a useless queen at best. Here at least I can see what I've gained.

I still have nightmares about the atrocities in both Kei and Kou. I'll never forget all the men who died in battle. All the men I killed. All the men I've left for dead. I'll never, ever forget them—even after I'm dead myself. That is a sin I will never wash clean of.

But I have my new beginning.

Life seems so… different now. How can I explain it? It's like colors are brighter, situations are more confusing, people are harder to deal with, and life seems so… blessed.

I realized early on in Kou that my life in Japan had been easy. I knew that if I ever returned I'd never take any of that for granted again. And I don't. I try to explain it to others, try to make them understand, but they never seem to want to listen.

Perhaps it is because I've chosen to live the life of a wanderer. I used to think everyone who lived on the street was a jobless bum. How wrong I was! Families who have anyone old enough to earn even the smallest of wages doing what they can so the family can eat and dress warmly; social anthropologists who live among us to see what we do and how people react to us—a little odd, but quite friendly; beggars who can't get jobs because of injuries or backgrounds, and then people like me who do it because they can.

Even amongst the other homeless, there are still so few who will listen to my advice. The ones that do are often people who have made the same observation far earlier than I did. I've met many people, and made many friends. There are people here that I'd probably die for, and I feel that they would do the same for me. We share bread together, even though there is not much to live on. We discuss politics, society, philosophy, and, of course, places that are willing to hire undocumented laborers—here have been a few cases where the identification policy has made me need to run from a place, so I learned fast it was better to pass myself off as a male, call myself Yuri, and avoid jobs that required identification. I do miss my parents, but I'm not sure what to say to them. I _know_ they won't believe me, and, to be honest, I don't really want to go back to them. I still love them dearly, but they are one of the main reasons I grew up never questioning anything, and I fear that if I return that I may lose all the progress I've made.

I'll send them a letter…at the end…when…well, when I know it won't matter anymore. I'll tell them everything. Where I was. Who I was. What I'd _done_—both pathetic and horrific—and I'd tell them that I never stopped thinking of them. That I wish I could have returned, but that I couldn't, and why. I can only imagine what they went through when I disappeared like that. What pain it caused them. And although a goodbye letter may not heal any of that pain, at least I can console myself with the knowledge that I tried. With luck, it may provide some closure for them.

At the end, I will say "Mom, Dad, don't worry about me. I've learned so much about myself, and I can finally pass in peace. There is a good chance you will never see me again, but I want you to know that I love you, and that I am as happy as I could hope for. Don't cry for me." And then I will break the covenant and prey with all my soul and strength that Kei will find a good ruler and that, somehow, I may have helped someone out there in one of these two wide, wide worlds.

_Fin_


End file.
